


No Shame

by jenlouniverse



Series: CALM's stories [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, Lyrics in italic, No shame, Parties, Song Fiction, angel on the dancefloor, calm, he felt for it, he's been bewitched, it's never enough though, maybe a bit of drinking, the boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23686174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenlouniverse/pseuds/jenlouniverse
Summary: Second song from CALM: No ShameAn angel (or is she) pointing a gun, giving affection.
Series: CALM's stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705273





	No Shame

**Author's Note:**

> You can think of any of the boys (I had an idea in mind of course but I hope he doesn't show)  
> Enjoy !!

The music was blasting through the speakers. He was seating in some sort of armchair, something as old as his grandparents it seemed, green velvet covering it. His drink had warmed up into his hand, and he sighed for what felt like the hundredth times in only two hours.

He left the armchair before his legs felt numb, and started wandering around the house, avoiding the dancing bodies who probably couldn't remember their own names. He rolled his eyes, stopping at the ceiling for a second to look at the multicoloured balloons covering it. He put his glass somewhere in the kitchen, unable to find a trash to put it in. He didn't want anyone to drink from it, but he just shrugged knowing that even if someone took that drink they'd probably wouldn't remember it the next day. Now that his hands were empty he put them in his pockets, enjoying the little bit of quiet he finally found in the kitchen. The sink was nowhere to be seen, surrounded by half-emptied bottles, some snacks that were already half eaten and balloons that had exploded earlier in the night.

He never wanted to go to this party in the first place. His three other friends sort of forced him, telling him he would forget a little about the outside world, but what he was seeing only made him want to throw up. And he hasn't had a full drink yet. Usually, he drunk a lot at this kind of parties, dancing and not caring one bit. But not tonight.

He was the only one who didn't know anyone from this party so, as soon as they had arrived, his three other friends went to see other friends that were here, leaving him alone. He didn't mind though, he probably would have done the same if it was someone else's party.

He went outside, in the garden, watching drunk people dancing from afar, and others throwing up in a corner. The music – or what was supposed to be music – came in a muffle sound to his ears, and for the first time since he'd come in, he was finally able to hear his own breathing. He saw one of his friend going up the stairs, holding a girl's hand. A little smile came upon his face, not surprised that fifteen minutes after being into this party his friend had already find a girl to hook up with. He even saw some other people he didn't know clapping at the couple they were forming. Between the four of them he was the one always wanting to be the _centre of attention_.

He finally made his way back inside, instantly attacked by the deafening music going through his ears. He cringed a little, looking for his two other friends, not able to find them in the crowded room. He took a drink of water from the kitchen and stayed up – someone had replaced him onto the old armchair – leaning against a white-flowered wallpaper who seemed more yellow than white from all the smoking that the room had been into during the last decades it went through.

Some sort of weird remix from a James Bond film came on, and the tall boy almost laughed to himself against the wallpaper at how ridiculous the music sounded. He took a sip of water, a foot against the wall. And there she was. The crowd seemed to let her dance alone forming a circle around her. He was tall enough to see her long blond hair which seemed to shine in a strange lightning, almost supernatural, almost like... _an angel_. He shook his head, and his surroundings seemed to return to the way it was, until she was _pointing his direction, her hands shaped as a gun_ , matching the theme from the music. She was acting like a spy and everybody was letting her dance, cheering and clapping her.

At the end of the song, the crowd found its way back to the dance floor again as she was trying to get out of it. She was coming his way and he looked at her until she went out of sight, behind the doorway right next to him as she disappeared into the kitchen.

She came back a few seconds later a red cup in her hand, and he couldn't help but watch her. Maybe he did for a little too long.

“Watcha drinkin'?” she asked, her accent strong, pointing his own red cup with her chin. He was so mesmerised by her green eyes that he almost didn't hear her.

“Humm... Just water.” He shrugged looking into his cup.

“Just water?” she asked widening her eyes. “You gotta be kiddin' me. Come on I'll make you a drink.” Without asking his opinion she took his hand and dragged him into the kitchen.

He couldn't help but asked himself if she was _giving him affection_. He had heard, multiple times before from his two other friends that, “ _love is fatal_ , mate, you never get to choose”. So was this it? Seeing her as an angel, was it a clue?

His train of thoughts was stopped by the blond girl handing him a red cup. He looked at it, then at her. Her smile had something more. It wasn't like any other smile he had seen in the past. It made him think of all these people _changing their faces and calling it fashion_ like he came to say a lot these days. But on her it was natural and it looked beautiful.

“ _Won't you give_ _me_ _a chance?”_ She asked him almost putting the cup into his right hand.

He took the cup and looked at the green liquid inside of it, unsure if he should taste it or not. He took a sip anyway just because the green eyes were starring at him and he couldn't look at them for too long. Without really knowing why though. It burned his throat a little but it felt good, cold, a mix of flavour almost exploding in his mouth. He blinked, gulping the liquid, and before he knew it, the strange girl with a mystical smile took his hand again, dragging him outside. He somehow managed to let his drink into his cup, as they almost ran to the front yard, her blond hair floating in front of him. It felt like he was only following strands of blond hair until the cold night put him out of his reverie and she closed the door.

She handed him her drink so she could _light her cigarette_ , and he didn't know if it was love or something he knew nothing about, but he wished he was that cigarette. He would loved to be consumed by her, to be inhaled by her. He never thought like this before, he'd never even thought that he would think like this one day. He didn't know what was happening to him, but it was happening. He watched the smoke going out of her mouth as he slowly handed her back her cup. She smiled at him and he felt as if the hot end of her cigarette had replaced his cheeks, and smoke left his mouth when he breathed deeply into the fresh air, putting a hand in his pocket while the other was holding his cup.

“You know,” she started out of the blue, “sometimes I wish I could be _diggin' my grave, just to see how people would react.”_

_A few months later:_

She had changed him. He wasn't noticing it, but he had changed. It only took him a few months to became exactly like her. Running, laughing, drinking, out of breath almost all the time.

One or two more parties together and it was enough for him to become addicted to it. To her, to the attention too. He was pouring himself his third drink of the night when he heard her screaming his name from the other room, over the music. She had him _in the palm of her hand_. But oh how _he loved when she was screaming his name_. He left his drink where it was, almost running and pushing people that got in the way with his elbows. He finally spotted her, just like the first time, some sort of angel apparition in the middle of the room. She was waving at him, showing him to come to her. When he got to her she was pointing to someone standing right in front of them. He had a phone at the end of a selfie stick, and a few seconds later the picture had been taken with the both of them in it. It had become they're little game. In every party they were attending, they tried to be in every picture taken during the night, even when they didn't know the person who was taking it.

He had learned to never _ask her any questions_ and he had felt for that. The mystery, the affection, the satisfaction, the trill, the reaction they were getting for what they were doing. They had _no shame._ And they were loving it.

Most of the times, after parties they would just laid on a bed, either his or hers, they would just enjoy each other's presence, staying in a quiet room after the party craziness from the night before.

He had changed. He had become just like his friend who was craving to be _the centre of attention_ a few months ago. A friend who, funnily enough, had been with someone for a few months now – which was a first when, in the past, he used to keep a girl for one night only. His friends had told him more than once that all of this might be dangerous that _it might be something he'd regret_ , but he never really listened to them, as if he had been bewitched by this angel that will _always be forgiven_. He had seen her sometimes kissing someone else, drinking from a cup, probably _sweeter than the words_ he told her a hundred times a day. He just seemed to _never be enough_ for her, as if she was about to _spit him out_ for another one. But he forgot about it all _every time she was screaming his name,_ and he just felt like _he had been light like a cigarette_ , burning for her, for the whole night coming, for the hours ahead when the night started, for the hours where they would be dancing and drinking, running and laughing, having _the satisfaction, the reactions_ they needed, just like an addiction, and with _no shame_.


End file.
